The Dealing Thing
by Casscaro
Summary: Spike and Dawn find dealing isn't always easy. Set post-S5pre-S6 BtVS. Rating for language only (and probably over cautious). Written for the Friendship Ficathon over on Live Journal.


"You want me to do what?" Spike glared at Giles in disbelief.

"Look, Spike, if there were any choice in the matter…" Giles tried the reasonable approach.

"No choice? There's a choice. You go!"

"Well, um… I hardly think… under the circumstances…"

"_Scared_, Rupert?" Spike sneered.

"Well, actually… ah… yes." Giles admitted sheepishly.

"Tough. Your job description, mate, not mine. You're a Watcher – _you_ go watch." Spike set his jaw stubbornly.

Giles sighed. This was proving even harder than he'd expected. "I just thought… this is the first time since Buffy… since…" he struggled over the words, "…Buffy died, that Dawn has wanted to do something _normal_. This party means a great deal to her, but I'm not sure she should go alone. It's right across town and besides," he paused awkwardly, "she's still somewhat fragile."

Spike relented slightly. "Yeah, well. OK – so that's good, her wantin' to go and all." He spotted the gleam of triumph in the Watcher's eyes. "But c'mon! A house full of 14 and 15 year-olds? I'm not a bloody babysitter!" he growled.

"And I'm not a baby." Dawn's voice interrupted them. She was standing in the doorway, arms folded, the Summers scowl firmly in place. "I don't need a chaperone. I can go to the party on my own."

Giles and Spike turned to her in unison and uttered a perfectly orchestrated "No."

"Dawn," Giles removed his glasses and gave them an unnecessary polish, "it's a long way to go alone and… and with everything that's happened, I – _we_ – just think it would be good for you to have someone go with you. A little – ah, moral support."

"Yeah. An' you're the one with the morals so _you_ do the supportin'." Spike glared at Giles.

"Oh, no!" Dawn squeaked. "Not Giles! Not that – I mean, I'd love to have you come," she added hastily at Giles' hurt expression, "but you'd hate it, really you would. Parties – not your thing."

"I'll have you know I was quite the party animal," Giles said huffily.

Spike snorted. "Yeah, I'll bet you used to wow 'em with your Charleston."

Giles glared at him. "Just how old do you think I am?"

"Physically or mentally?"

"Umm… guys?" Dawn wasn't in the mood for vampire-Watcher posturing. "Can we get back to the party thing?"

"OK. I'll take you." Spike heaved a sigh. "But wouldn't you rather go with… with Willow? Or Anya? Or even Xander?"

"Ah… all otherwise engaged, I'm afraid," Giles gave an apologetic smile.

"Oh, what, so I wasn't even first choice? Oh, that's just dandy…"

"It's OK." Dawn put in quickly, "I don't need to go. It's no big." She put on her best 'brave little toaster' face.

Spike rolled his eyes. "No – you should go."

"Really. You're right. Can't go alone. And it's not fair to drag anyone else along when they don't want to come. I'll stay home." The 'martyr' replaced the 'brave little toaster'.

"I said I'd take you."

"I don't want to go."

"Well, _I_ want to go. OK?"

"You do? Oh – OK then. I guess I could take you." Dawn sighed. "Since you want to go." She gave a small triumphant smile and beat a hasty retreat before anyone changed their mind.

Spike and Giles watched her go with perfectly matching expressions of perplexity.

"How the hell did she do that?" Spike asked bemusedly.

The night of the part arrived with a nervous Dawn trawling through her wardrobe and trying on just about every outfit she possessed before settling on the jeans-and-t-shirt ensemble she'd started out in, with the addition of a slick of lip-gloss, a touch of mascara and a delicate lapis necklace liberated from the Magic Shop. She checked her reflection in the mirror and practiced a few 'I'm having such fun!' party expressions. The anxious blue eyes that stared back at her were strangely at odds with the bright, fixed smile. She bit her lip and was suddenly very grateful she wasn't facing this alone.

Downstairs, Giles was doing a passable imitation of a father whose daughter was about to go on her first date. He paced the floor nervously, wondering what was keeping Spike, hoping that the vampire hadn't forgotten his promise and wasn't going to let Dawn down. He checked his watch again and sighed. Late as ever. Honestly, he'd be late for his own funeral… or actually… Giles shook the thought away. He sincerely hoped that whatever Spike wasn't going to let Dawn down over this. On the other hand, getting Dawn across town meant that Spike would be driving - and Giles had had experience of Spike's driving. On the whole, however, he had to admit to being relieved at the sound of a motor pulling up outside.

Calling up to Dawn to hurry, Giles threw open the front door and stepped onto the porch. He looked at what Spike had brought in disbelief. "You said you'd get a car!"

"I said I'd get wheels. This has wheels," Spike said reasonably.

"Bu… wha… where did you get a motorcycle?"

"Well, I nicked it, didn't I?" Spike gave Giles a look. "What? You're shocked and disappointed? Evil, remember?" He shook his head in disgust. "You're the one who keeps bangin' on about it," he added under his breath.

"You… you…!" This time Giles' was completely lost for words.

Spike took pity on the spluttering Watcher, and sighed. "S'all right, keep your cardie on. Borrowed it from a mate. All legit."

"And you have a licence and insurance, naturally." Giles recovered the power of speech.

"Oh, for… Will you lighten up? It's OK! Been ridin' these things since before you got your first trike. And look!" He held up a bright red crash hat. "I brought her a helmet!"

"I don't care if…" Giles began.

"Oh, _cool_!" Dawn appeared on the porch next to Giles and began jumping up and down with excitement. "A motorbike! Oh, wicked! Bet no-one else gets to go to the party on a motorbike!"

"It is very much not cool, nor yet… _wicked_!" Giles glared at her, arms folded. "If you think I'm letting you get on that… that… _thing_, young lady…"

"Oh, yes I am!" Dawn interrupted excitedly.

"Lookin' good, Bit." Spike gave her an approving nod, ignoring Giles completely.

"Thanks!" Dawn basked in Spike's approval.

"…then you're very much mistaken!" Giles finally managed to finish.

"Aww… Spike…tell him…" Dawn turned her best appealing look on the vampire.

Spike considered for a moment, then nodded. "No. You're quite right, mate. Wasn't thinkin'."

"_Spike!_" Dawn whined.

"No – Rupe's right." Spike looked over at Giles. "We'll get a cab – assuming you're payin'. Wanna go call us one while I park up?"

"Oh! Yes! Right!" Somewhat taken aback by the unexpectedly easy victory, Giles found himself retreating back into the house. "Ah – good. A cab. Right."

Dawn turned to Spike with a scowl as Giles' disappeared. "I don't wanna get a cab."

Spike grinned and tossed her the crash hat. "Me neither. Hop on, Nibblet."

By the time Giles reappeared, all he found were tyre tracks on the lawn.

Their arrival at the party was gratifyingly (for Dawn at least) high-key. The low, powerful roar of the bike turned all heads and that, combined with the accompanying leather-clad driver, couldn't fail but put her 'cool' standing up by several points. Dawn basked in the sudden, awed attention. Spike rolled his eyes as she hooked her arm through his and they made their way to the front door where the sound of N'SYNC played at ear-splitting volume greeted them. He winced. "If anyone puts Britney bloody Spears on, I'll bite them, chip or no," he growled. "What the hell is this?"

"You don't like Justin Timberlake?" Dawn grinned. "He's way cool."

"Bloody boy bands. Call this music? If you have to listen to Yankee bollocks you could at least try the Ramones."

"Dawn!" A pretty, fair-haired teenager bounced toward them. "You came!" She smiled brightly at Spike. "Hi!"

"Hey, Katie!" Dawn reckoned some introductions were probably in order. "This is Spike. Spike this is…"

"Katie. Yeah. Please to meet you." He was willing to give best behaviour a go for Dawn.

"Spike?" Katie looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression, clearly trying to classify him into a family/ friend/ boyfriend category and failing completely.

"Spike's…" Dawn tried to help out with an explanation - but really couldn't. "…Spike." she finished lamely.

"Oh! Cool! Nice to meet you. Come on in! There's food in the dining room and drinks in the kitchen. Big sis's in charge in there. Clarissa. You can hardly miss her; just look for the crowd of drooling guys." She smiled wryly, and then looked at Spike uncertainly. "No alcohol, I'm afraid. You know – parents…" She rolled her eyes. "Have fun." She gave them another bright smile and went off to greet more new arrivals, leaving Spike and Dawn to wander uncertainly into the party.

Dawn surveyed the crowded room nervously. "You want to go find something to eat first?" Given the total lack of familiar faces, prevaricating seemed a good option.

"Just choosin' the aperitif." Spike made a show of peering closely at a group of kids clustered around the CD collection.

"You really shouldn't make jokes about eating people." Dawn hid a grin.

"You think I'm joking?"

"I know you are!"

"Hey! Big bad here!"

"Huh! _I'm_ badder than you!"

"You might just be right. OK – you feel bad enough to face the music?"

Dawn put on a determined smile. "Sure. I've faced demons and apocalypses. A few future classmates hold no terrors. Or maybe only little, 'oh my God what if they don't like me?' terrors."

"They don't like you, their loss. Just ignore 'em."

"That what you'd do?"

"Well, given I couldn't bite 'em, yeah. Go mingle." He eyed the crowded room uncomfortably. "I think I'll just go check on the bike, so you need me, that's where I'll be. But – see that guy over there? The one with the poncy lilac shirt? Stay clear of that one."

Dawn followed the line of his gaze. "Why?" she asked breathlessly, "Do you know him? Is he a vampire or a demon or something?"

"No. But – please! That shirt?" Spike gave her a quick grin. "Have fun." He turned and slouched nonchalantly away. Dawn watched him go, fixed her smile and entered the fray.

He hung around outside for a while, but eventually the persistent attentions of a group of wannabe bikers drove him back into the house. When he found Dawn she was pinned in the corner of a sofa by the boy in the lilac shirt, looking very uncomfortable and not a little bored. Spike chose to ignore her 'rescue me' signals for a few moments, grinning widely at her feeble attempts to escape her admirer, but when lilac-shirt moved a little too close for Spike's comfort, he decided it was time to step in. He sauntered over casually and looked down at the boy, head cocked. "Think the little lady's had enough of your company, mate," he said conversationally.

"Who are you, her dad?" The boy tried for a sneer.

"No. But right now I might just be your worst nightmare." Spike held the boy's eye. Whatever the kid saw in Spike's eyes was enough to make his own widen in fear. He got quickly to his feet and beat a retreat, not even bothering to try for any sort of retort. He clearly wanted to be somewhere else – and now.

Spike grinned. "Still got it, huh?"

"Yeah, you still got it. You're the scary man." Dawn gave a sigh of relief as Spike plonked himself down on the sofa next to her. "Thanks for that. Some guys never seem to know when to take a hint."

"Yeah, well, teenage boys. Not much with the thinking and big with the raging hormones. Brain stops workin' in the presence of a pretty girl."

"Voice of experience?"

"Didn't do teenage in my day and age." Spike snorted. "Nearest we got to rock music and rebellion was reading Byron."

"You think I'm pretty?" Dawn preened.

"Gettin' prettier every day." His voice was soft. "Buffy'd…" he stopped and shook his head and she watched him push back his pain. "Stop fishin' for compliments." His voice was determinedly light. "C'mon. Let's go find a drink."

The kitchen was awash with the very hormones Spike and Dawn had just been discussing. Slim in red satin, blonde hair shining and very much the glamorous older sister, Clarissa held court to a gaggle of admiring, posturing teenage boys.

Katie was watching the performance with a healthy dose of disdain. "Would you look at them? Flies around a honeypot. Big sisters, huh? Bet yours isn't that bad." She rolled her eyes at Dawn.

Dawn felt her smile freeze. "Oh! Buffy… well, you know… sisters…" she managed, despite the sharp pain in her heart and the clutch of panic that caught her breath. She looked away quickly, afraid that Katie would see something in her eyes, searching for the reassurance of Spike's presence.

He was busy checking out the array of bottles and cans on the kitchen table. "Have you got _anything_ worth drinkin'?" he muttered, making a move toward the refrigerator.

"Umm… you can't go in there…" Katie gave an embarrassed smile. "It's out of bounds. My mom and dad…" she gestured nervously. "We have Mountain Dew."

"Riigghttt." Spike said slowly. "You know what? I think I might just give that a miss."

A tall, skinny kid was watching him carefully. "Hey! You look like that British guy! Billy Idol."

"You know Billy Idol?" Spike raised an eyebrow hopefully.

"Yeah, man! Grew up with him. My mom thinks he rocks!"

"Your mom." Spike stared at him in disbelief. "Good for her." He shrugged the tension from his neck. "I need a fag. A _cigarette_…" this to the look of shock on the boy's face, "Bloody hell…" he muttered, turning away.

Dawn gave him a sympathetic smile as he left the kitchen. "I'll be outside." He grimaced at her as he passed. "Can't take any more of this."

"No _way_ is he your boyfriend!" Clarissa was suddenly at Dawn's side.

"He's… Huh! Why not?"

"Well… look at him." Clarissa's eyes narrowed appreciatively. "I mean… hot or what? Hardly freshman material. "

Dawn folded her arms with a scowl. "No, he's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, _gooood_." Clarissa licked her lips and threw back her hair, eyes fixed on Spike's retreating back. "Well, nice talking and all, but I think I might just go mingle…" She threw Dawn a quick, over-bright smile, opened the out-of-bounds refrigerator and took out two bottles of beer. "Ciao, sweetie."

Dawn watched her sway her way across the room, bottles held high. She raised her eyebrows. Like Spike would be interested. She reconsidered. Other than in the beer, naturally.

Later, Dawn would tell Giles that she'd had fun at the party, that she's talked and danced and laughed and made lots of new friends. She wouldn't tell him how hard she found it, how she stood in the corner with her drink and watched the others, how she felt outside of it all. Katie was friendly enough, and some of the others were OK – but some of them knew who she was, had heard reports of Buffy from older brothers and sisters and she pretended not hear the whispers, or notice the looks. She worked on looking unconcerned, above it all – but it wasn't easy. She stuck with it for half an hour or so, until the knot in her stomach was too much to bear, then she went looking for her ride home.

The garden was night-cool, peaceful after the noise and heat of the crowded house, the moon heavy in a cloudless sky. She stood quietly for a while, breathing the soft air, trying to quell the strange, panicked feeling in her stomach and listening to the muffled laughter and conversation behind the closed doors. She felt like an outsider, standing on the periphery of the strange world of teenagehood, of normality, wanting to be a part of it but not really sure how. The feeling was unsettlingly familiar. She shivered despite the mildness of the air, wrapped her arms around herself and went to find Spike.

He was sitting on a bench under an old apple tree, its gnarled branches studded with pale apples casting twisted moonshadows on the night-silvered lawn. Dawn moved closer then paused – he wasn't alone. She felt a moments shock at the sight of the blonde hair cascading down the girl's slim back as she straddled his lap, the fleeting sense of half-recognition and hope against knowledge. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again it was Clarissa Spike was kissing, Clarissa's hips under rucked-up red satin that moved against his, Clarissa's breathless gasps that made her gut clench with hurt. She stood mute in the moonlight, unable to turn away, as his eyes opened and his hooded gaze found hers. He pulled his mouth away from Clarissa's, looked at Dawn with his lips softly parted, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

Clarissa gave him a puzzled look then followed his gaze to where Dawn was standing. She smiled slowly. "Come back a little later, huh, sweet? We're kind of busy."

Dawn ignored her. "Spike?"

Spike held her gaze as he eased Clarissa off his lap. "Run along, pet." He pushed the blonde away.

Clarissa stood up and glared down at him. "But…"

"Later." He didn't look at her. With a final poisonous look at Dawn, Clarissa flounced away.

"What…" Dawn licked suddenly dry lips. "What are you doing?"

"Well…" he raised an eyebrow. "What did it look like?"

"I… I thought… you said you _loved_ Buffy." A sudden surge of something that felt like betrayal, so strong it scared her.

"_What?_"

"How could you?" Dawn ignored the dangerous edge to his voice, the words falling from her churning brain without thought.

"How could I _what_?"

Something inside her shifted, months of self-control crumbling to nothing, and she was suddenly a maelstrom of emotions she'd tried to deny. Feelings she'd bitten down and bottled up until the frail vessel of her sanity had felt ready to crack fought to the surface in a terrifying rush, focussed into a powerful surge of anger welling from somewhere deep in her core, a shapeless rage looking for an outlet. He didn't deserve her anger but she couldn't stop herself lashing out, hitting at the one person who least deserved her pain. "I mean, she's barely cold and you're making out with… a total_ skank_!"

"A total…" he shook his head in disgust "Oh, grow up!"

"I'm not a child!" she spat at him.

"Then stop acting like one!" He stood up to face her, his movements tight, predator-tense. "You really wanna know what was going on?" He glared at her. "That… with her… with the _others_," she winced and he went on, hurling the words at her as if they were being torn from him, raw with hurt, "it's a way to... to lose it… the whole bloody mess… Sometimes – it helps, OK? Just for a second it stops the thinkin'. Makes. It. Stop." He gritted his teeth at the look in her eyes. "Well, what the _fuck_ do you think I…" He stopped himself, pulled back his anger with an effort that corded the muscles of his jaw and neck as he bit down on the words. He looked away. "Look, it's…"

She wanted it to stop, but her pain made her cruel. "And is it always blondes, Spike? That how you get through? Pretending they're her?" She drew a breath, ignored the spasm of hurt that twisted his mouth and suddenly she was asking the question that had preyed on her mind for weeks, her voice raw with emotion. "Is that why you stay? Because I remind you of her?" She regretted the words the moment they left her lips.

"Because you…?" He stopped and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again the pain and anger she saw made her wince. He glared at her, the muscles of his jaw clenched. "Yeah, all right." His voice was hard. "You remind me of her. Some of the things you say… do… that 'fuck you' look you've got right now? Just like hers. You even smell like her, for Christ's sake." He took hold of her arms. "Do you think I _want_ that? Do you think I want to be reminded every day that I fucked up? She's dead because I got it wrong." His voice cracked with emotion. "I couldn't save her. It should've…"

"Been me?" her voice a wail. "You all think it should've been me. It shouldn't have been Buffy! Buffy…"

"What? Fuck, Dawn, no!" His grip tightened. "Don't say that. Don't _ever_…"

"She shouldn't be dead!" she screamed at him.

"Neither should you! Dawn…"

It hurt – vampire-strong fingers digging into the muscles of her arms, the agony of remembering, but mostly the wordless anguish and self-loathing and helplessness she saw in his eyes. _Oh, God, what am I doing?_ Through her confusion the thought clutched at her heart. She felt the sting of tears, but she held his tortured gaze levelly. "Why do you stay?" she whispered miserably.

He dropped his hands with a sigh, suddenly weary, the anger gone. "I stay for _you_, not for her – not _just_ for her – because… bloody hell, I dunno… because I care about you. OK? I wanna be there for you, make sure you're OK. God knows the rest of 'em can't be trusted. This… me stayin' here, yeah, it's about Buffy, but mostly it's about you, and I don't wanna leave you to get hurt… not again. I'm trying to make it right, Dawn. Mostly I just don't know how. For either of us." He sat down on the bench, his head dropping resignedly. "You want me to go, just say."

"Oh." Her anger drained away as suddenly as it had arisen, leaving her light-headed with aching loneliness and the sick pain of regret. She looked down at his bent head, thought about how it would have been without him, felt bereft at the thought of losing him. She'd grown to rely on the reassurance of his constant presence, always there for her, trying his awkward best for her, a shoulder to cry on - even although he seemed uneasy and unsure of how best to cope with the tears. He'd been there for the others, too, giving as best he could - still on the periphery, hiding behind his veneer of scorn and snark. But not _one_ of them had thought of _him_. "Spike? I… I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, "I don't think I'd have got this far without you. You… you've saved me from falling apart. You won't leave me, will you? Ever?" _Not you, too?_

He looked up at her, jaw clenched, blue eyes intense in the moonlight. He shook his head gently. "I'll always be here for you, love. Long as you want."

She gave him a grateful, tearful smile, thrust her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and shrugged. "I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid, Bit." He sighed and gestured for her to sit next to him. "Me? I got a degree in it."

They sat in silence, staring into the darkness.

"Spike?" Dawn's voice was hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"Will it spoil the whole big bad image if you… I mean… d'you think I could have a hug?"

"Oh. Yeah, right." He put an arm around her shoulder awkwardly, pulling her close to his side.

She settled her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I miss her, y'know? Some days it's real hard."

"Yeah. I know."

"Will it get easier?"

"So they say."

"Until then?"

"Until then we deal."

"I'm glad you're here to help me deal."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Spike?"

"Nibblet?"

"The dealing thing? It sucks."

"Oh, yeah," he sighed and kissed the top of her head. "Big time."


End file.
